A lake on the American River
Early morning creatures as observed on slow moving water from a kayak
He’s poised. I’ve been watching these creatures long enough that I can almost predict when they’ll take off, but he surprises me. I’m quiet in my kayak, though after a long July 4th weekend full of thoughtless humans, his tolerance is low.
Humans are the worse thing about this magical place because their voices and music carry long distances. This is a lake between two dams, a small one and a large one: Folsom Dam. Sometimes I paddle all the way east to a cable that stretches across, warning paddlers to go no farther because of Folsom Prison. No longer a lake, with water releases, the current can be quite strong near the dam. Generally, this section of the American River, Lake Natoma, is a peaceful place.
Willow Creek feeds the lake and this morning water is high so I can paddle upstream farther than I’ve been before, until a small beaver dam obstructs.
It’s like some primordial forest with wild blackberries and I try to pretend that I’m back in the time of the Indigenous people, picking fruit.
Sometimes I’m rewarded with beavers and otters, but not today. I know where they share a den but perhaps I’m already too late. I am rewarded with a most majestic of birds, a great blue heron.
He stands so still. Maybe he thinks I’ll mistake him for the leaves of wild iris, bright yellow long past blooming.
In 2011, I included a heron on one of two 1,000 pound sculptures for the City of Sacramento. They’re still there, celebrating our regional history and in honor of John C. Fremont, explorer.
What a pleasant interlude this was today! You're right--we learn art when we use our eyes and ears instead of our mouths and playlists.Thanks for this.